“I’d like that,” he said. “And let us have it in the living room of your wing.”
“At least that will be a change of scene,” she said, smiling. “I’ll tell Mrs. Case to have the cook fix all your favorite dishes.”
That evening Nita wore a yellow dress which was one of Billy’s favorites. Rather than have thirty-five candles on the cake, she had only one. She used candelabra on the table and made the setting as attractive as she could.
When Billy arrived to join her he was wearing a dressing gown. He said, “You don’t mind my being comfortable?”
She kissed him lightly and said, “I approve of it. How do you like the table?”
“Lovely. As I knew it would be.”
Mrs. Case served dinner and then there was a special ceremony over the cake. Nita explained she’d used only a single candle because it stood for the year she’d known him.
“Proper,” he said. “I began a new life when you came here.” He blew out the candle and there was a slice of cake for each of the staff including Murphy, and for herself and Billy. Then they sat together in the candlelight sipping after-dinner wine.
He told her, “This is the most perfect birthday of my life.”
She laughed. “Does it make you want to see thirty-six?”
They were seated side by side on a chaise lounge. He put an arm around her. “If I can spend it with you, yes.”
She smiled. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
He put his glass on the coffee table before them and turning to her soberly, said, “Nita I have a confession to make.”
“What?”
“Something has happened which I never expected. Something which I never hoped for. I have found feeling again. I have fallen in love with you.”
His impassioned words brought her fear and un-happiness rather than joy. She had come to understand and like him as a friend but he simply did not appeal to her in a romantic way. She knew she had made a mistake in remaining in his house so long. How could she correct it now without badly hurting him?
She said, “It’s your birthday, and the wine. We’re good friends. That’s wonderful. I’ve never had a better friend than you!”
His eyes showed anguish. “I need more than your friendship, Nita. You can save me! I want you for my wife!”
“Billy!” she protested quietly, not knowing what to say.
“I can stop drinking if I know I have you. My career won’t be that important to me,” he went on. “I have come to be dependent on you. To resent the minutes and hours when I’m not with you.”
“Billy, it won’t work!” she protested. “You don’t really know me at all.”
“I do,” he said, and he prevented her making any further protest by putting his arms around her and covering her lips with his.
Nita realized what was happening and that it was going to be impossible to prevent it. She hated herself for having been so stupid as to remain in his house and fervently prayed that when it was all sorted out he would not be hurt. As he lifted her in his arms and carried her into her bedroom she knew he expected her to surrender herself to him. To save him from further pain she knew that she would.
When Nita awoke the next morning Billy was no longer in her bed. He had left sometime towards dawn. It was raining. There would be no work at the studio today. She lay there naked beneath a single sheet and in a sleepy reverie reviewed the events of the previous night. Billy had carried her into her bedroom and after undressing her had removed his dressing gown and got into bed with her.
Nita had not remonstrated with him since she partly blamed herself for the situation. He had been a considerate and most gentle lover, but there had been little thrill or satisfaction for her. And she had a secret suspicion that their love making had not excited him much either. It had ended soon and then he had remained next to her in the bed, stroking her hair and whispering endearments. Shortly after that he’d fallen asleep, but Nita had remained awake for a long while, worrying. Then she also slept. He had left without waking her and she tried to decide what she must do now. The main thing which came out of her thoughts was that she must no longer remain as his house guest. It was not fair to either of them, and surely no longer necessary for her.
She hoped that he would be in an amenable humor so she could try to reason this all out with him. Nita remembered Thelma Stone’s offer to help find her a cottage apartment at Gardenia Court. This appealed to her and she felt that she must discuss it with Billy and hoped he would agree. She also worried that because of the previous night and the rainy day he might decide to hide himself in his room for another extended bout of drinking.
One thing she had discovered about show business people, and especially the Hollywood stars, was their extreme vulnerability. It was not strange when one considered how exposed they were to the public. Small fears and insecurities became magnified in the spotlight of the press. The results were often temperamental and insane behavior from people of whom it would not ordinarily be expected.
Nita was sure that the comedian was right. Not all the stars were continually living on the edge of disaster, taking drugs or drinking too much. But it seemed to her the majority of them were and she did not wish to join their ranks.
There was a knock on her door and she quickly rose and put on her dressing gown. Then she went and opened the door. To her surprise it was Murphy who was outside with her breakfast tray in hand.
“Mrs. Case has a few days off,” he explained with a smile on his broad, tanned face. “Her daughter is sick.”
“I’m sorry,” Nita said, standing aside to let him enter with the tray. “You didn’t need to bring me my breakfast. I could have made it for myself.”
Murphy put the tray on the usual table and then turned to her. “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Nolan. But Mr. Bowers would never approve of that.”
“Well, thank you,” she said. “It’s raining so there’ll be no studio call.”
“No,” the big man agreed. “Mr. Bowers is taking an easy morning. He’d like you to join him in the dining room for luncheon at twelve.”
Nita sat at the table with the tray and unfolded her napkin. She smiled at Murphy and said, “You can tell him I’ll be delighted to accept his invitation.”
“Good!” Murphy said moving to the door to leave. “He’ll be pleased.”
“And what about you, Murphy?” she asked.
He looked surprised. “Me, madam?”
“Yes. I understand you are living here to keep an eye on Mr. Bowers. That you’re doing this for the studio. Do you think I’m a good influence on him?”
Murphy looked startled. After a moment he said, “I think you’ve made this house a much more pleasant place.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Why did you ask that?” Murphy wanted to know.
She raised her eyes to meet his. “Because I plan to leave soon.”
“I see.”
“I hope Mr. Bowers will approve.”
Murphy shrugged. “It’s hard to tell about him. But for the most part he’s a reasonable man.”
“But a sad one.”
Murphy nodded. “He’s that, all right.”
“The trouble is, I’m not sure I can do anything about his sadness.”
Murphy stared at his shoe tips. “There’s not too much any of us can do,” he said.
“You’re really fond of him, aren’t you, Murphy?” she said quietly.
“Yes, I am,” the big man said. And with a final glance at her he added, “I’ll tell him you’ll come to the dining room at twelve.”
The rain continued in a heavy downpour. Nita felt her nervousness increase as the time drew near for her luncheon with Billy. She hoped that she could carry it off as she’d planned, but she was by no means sure. She needed to make him understand that the time had come for her to strike out on her own without hurting him. And she worried that this would not be easy.
Nita donned a simple blue dress and went to the dining room a few minutes before twelve. She found the table set and Billy waiting for her. He was staring out the french windows at the rain, a half-emptied martini glass in his hand. He turned as she came in and greeted her with a smile on his shy, boyish face.
“I had Murphy make up a pitcher of martinis,” he said. “I know you like his mix.”
Nita smiled. “I’ll have one.”
He came and poured her out one from the pitcher on the table. “Just one?”
“You know I hardly ever drink during the day.”
“This is special, it’s a rainy day,” he said.
“I know,” she smiled, taking the drink from him. “What a grand excuse for not having to work!”
“I couldn’t have arranged it better,” he agreed.
She stood beside him, watching the garden being drenched with heavy rain. “Is it supposed to last long?”
“Clearing tonight,” he said. “So we’ll be working tomorrow morning now matter how many puddles on the set or how deep they may be.”
“Johnny Dale will likely find a way to include the puddles in the story line,” she laughed and sipped her drink.
It was apparent that Billy had been drinking for some time, yet he was by no means drunk. His mood was subdued as it often was when he was drinking.
Without looking at her directly, he said, “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Nothing to worry about,” she said.
“It was a mistake, I know that now,” he said. “It wasn’t good for either of us.”
“We all make mistakes.”
He glanced at her anxiously. “We’ve had a good friendship. And I need friends. I was a fool to risk destroying it by adding sex to our relationship.”
She grimaced. “Most men would do the same thing.”
“I don’t want to imitate most men,” he objected. “I want to act according to my own lights. And I know last night was a disaster for us both.”
“Even so,” she said, “we can forget it and begin over. Our friendship need not suffer.”
He gave her a hopeful look. “You mean that?”
“I do,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said with great warmth. He kissed her gently on the forehead.
“There’s just one other thing,” Nita went on, aware that this was the moment when she must try to reason with him.
He frowned at his empty martini glass, then went to the bar and refilled it. He took a sip of the crystal clear liquid and asked, “What is it?”
“My living here is no longer practical.”
“Why not?”
“It was all right at the start,” she said. “But now that I’ve been here a long time I’m sure it must be a strain on you. And I could frankly do with more freedom.”
The comedian looked surprised. “I have never tried to interfere with what you do!”
“I know that,” Nita said. “But merely living in someone else’s house imposes certain restraints, and creates certain tensions!”
“You’re talking about last night,” he said. “I promise it will never happen again.”
“I’m not thinking only of last night,” she protested. “I’m thinking of things generally. But you are right in one sense, the only way I could remain here would be if we became lovers.”
“And you don’t want that?”
She shook her head. “No. And if you’ll be strictly truthful about it, you’ll admit that neiher do you.”
He sipped his drink again and stared down at it. “Lately, I’m not sure what I want.”
“You need a placid existence,” she said. “I can’t give you that as a mistress. But I can offer something as your freind.”
He eyed her unhappily. “So you propose to leave here?”
“Yes.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I haven’t decided,” she said. “Thelma Stone suggested I take a cottage where she lives. It’s called Gardenia Court.”
“I warned you she’s working with Wallace Reid and that several of the company are taking drugs,” Billy said.
“I know that,” she said. “But I doubt that Thelma is taking anything. She’s too level-headed and ambitious. And I certainly have no intentions of taking drugs.”
The comedian sighed. “I hope you are right in all you’ve said. If you leave the house that doesn’t mean you intend to stop working with me?”
“Of course not! I want to go on with you and Hammons.”
“You’re not ambitious to escape two-reelers like Thelma?”
“That’s another place where Thelma and I differ. I’m happy to continue as an actress in short comedies.”
“Good!” Billy Bowers said. “The first films in which you worked are in release now. The word on you is good.”
She brightened. “I’m glad! I’d like to see one of them,” she said, excited.
“We’ll do it just as soon as one of them comes to play in a Los Angeles movie theatre.”
Nita’s eyes were wide with excitement at the prospect. “I’ve seen the day’s rushes, of course. And some of the complete films before they were properly cut. Seeing the finished product in a theatre with other people around is something else.”
Billy’s smile was wistful. “I remember I felt exactly like that once, long ago.”
“You make it seem ages ago. You’re not that old!”
“Old enough,” he said. He put down his glass. “Murphy has promised us a wonderful lunch. Let’s see if he lives up to it, and while we eat we can discuss when you’re to move.”
So it was settled as easily as that. Nita had expected Billy to offer other objections. But aside from warning her not to count too much on Thelma, he said nothing. They returned to work on the latest two-reeler the next morning as if nothing had happened. But she quietly started to make preparations for establishing her own place.
It began with a phone call to Thelma and an appointment to visit the blonde girl at her cottage and be shown one of the cottages which were vacant. It was a pleasant evening as Nita drove to the plain but well kept cottage court. Thelma’s cottage was in the rear, some distance from the street. She parked her small Chevrolet roadster outside the cottage, went to its front door and rang the bell.
Thelma answered and at once threw her arms around Nita as she welcomed her. “Do come in,” she said, ushering her into the plainly furnished living room distinguished only by some posters of Billy Bowers comedies with the star’s face featured large and a similar one of Wallace Reid in “Across The Continent.” Wally as a racing driver looked healthy and handsome.
Nita thought that Thelma had accquired a new kind of beauty. She was thinner and her radiance had a kind of sparkle. She glowed with loveliness. Nita told her, “I think you’re looking marvelous!”